


Partners

by Willowanderer



Series: Gratuitous Reincarnation fics [12]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gen, Platonic Romance, mentions of nudity, mentions of sexuality, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:40:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowanderer/pseuds/Willowanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendships form in an instant to last for a lifetime.<br/>Or even more than one. <br/>Some friendships are stronger even then romance, and isn't that love</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

He was working on fixing a light fixture when someone else came in. He was in his shirt sleeves but had a jacket over his arm, along with a leather briefcase that might very well cost more than his beat up motorcycle. He seemed mildly surprised to see the ladder and the person on it, but went to the desk in the front of the lecture hall and tossed his jacket on it. He was youngish for a teacher, with a sporty, trendy pony tail and a neatly trimmed full beard. His eyes were very bright, and he must whiten his teeth. The co eds must love him, the workman concluded, and offer to 'work' for better grades. Fluttering hearts all over the campus. It was working on him.   
“I'm sorry, I was told this room was empty for the rest of the day.”  
“Oh of classes. But I don't have an office, and I like to practice my lectures.” The professor, smiled up at him. “Don't let me get in your way, just tell me to move if you need me to. I hope you don't mind hearing about historical politics.”   
“I won't be disturbing you?”  
“Trust me, your tools won't be any louder than the students tend to be.” He looked over his notes, then after a moment, started speaking as though addressing a class full of students. He had a pleasant voice, and it was interesting, but the workman couldn't help but snort into his beard a few times.  
“Is something funny?”   
The handyman looked down from his ladder, and lowered his drill.   
“... nothing sir.”  
“No, really, tell me.” He patted the desk. “and come on down, as fabulous as the view is, I don't want to crane my neck.”  
The view? What did he mean?  
“I'm on the clock.”  
“So am I!”   
He climbed down, but didn't take the offered seat, instead taking off his bandana and wiping his face for a moment.   
“So, what made you laugh?”   
“Well...” he considered his answer. “While your lecture itself is well delivered, your interpretation of Machiavelli’s political influence is fundamentally flawed.”   
“How so?”  
“You're talking as though he'd rather use someone else to get things done; how do you draw that conclusion when he was possibly one of the most famous politicians in his time, if not history- he couldn't have achieved that only by prompting others to do things.”   
“The man is synonymous with backhanded, convoluted plots-”  
“A bastardization of character brought on by the shift of language.”   
Before either of them realized time had passed, the light from the windows had turned red gold, and he guiltily reascended the ladder. Fortunately, he'd almost been done with the light fixture, and it was closed up and working again in short order.  
“So, what are you doing fixing lights?” he asked, leaning against his desk. “You should at very least be in the class, keeping me on my toes.”   
He winced and packed up his tools.   
“What, a handyman can't be interested in history?”  
“Everyone should be interested in history.” he flashed a charming smile. “Not that many people are; but it's a core class.”   
“You can't be trying to teach Machiavelli in a core history class.”  
“If you teach them the dirty stuff, they'll actually learn it.”   
Shaking his head he started to leave.   
“Hey wait-”   
he turned and blinked.   
“Since clearly, I need to rewrite my lecture,” He gave a smirk “Can I buy you a beer, and pick your brain for insights?”  
“Uhhhh?” he honestly wasn't sure how to reply to that.   
“Or dinner?”  
“I'm a vegetarian.”  
“Vegan?”  
“No.”  
“Militant?”  
“No.”  
“We can work with that.” He grinned, and packed his papers back into the expensive breifcase.   
“I have to-”  
“Oh yes, clock out. I'll meet you near staff parking.” his assurance turned briefly to puppy eyes, and he found himself giving in.   
“Alright.” 

He'd taken the early bus to the campus, so his bike was still crammed into the garage at his loft. He was pacing and about to leave when he heard a chipper   
“Hello!” and saw the professor coming towards him, now wearing his jacket, and a scarf and looking generally disheveled.   
“Terribly sorry.” he said “I got ambushed by a student. And I tried to beg off and I realized I didn't know your name!”   
“Leo.”   
“Leo...?”  
“Just Leo.”  
“Really? It's not short for anything?”  
“Nope.” He popped the last half of the word like a teenaged girl. “Mother thought 'Leonardo' was too much of a mouthful. And I doubt she even knew the name 'Leopold' and 'Leon' is right out. So Yeah, all of my paper work, everyone waits for the rest of my name, and no, I'm just named 'Leo'” He stuck a warning finger under his nose. “One- and I mean ONE lion joke, and I will take your head off.” He looked like he could do it too. He was broad in the chest and there were muscles on his arms from manual labor.   
“You're only making it harder not to.”  
“What?”  
“Roaring at me.”  
Leo stared for a moment, then burst into laughter. “Oh hell, I should be mad at you, but I can't seem to manage it.”   
“I get that a lot.” he smiled. “Well Leo, I'm Ezio Florence.”  
“Italian?”  
“I was thinking greek, but Italian sounds great.”   
“No, your name?”  
“Yep.” He waved Leo along to follow him. “You can't tell that by my dashing good looks?”   
Given how Ezio dressed, Leo would have expected a sports car, but instead it was a vintage jeep, like something out of a war movie. Not quite completely vintage, because it had been retrofitted with seat belts, and he insisted Leo buckle in before heading out- though the careless haphazard way he drove might have had something to do with that. 

Leo was momentarily worried that Ezio would do something stupid, like take him to a really good Italian restaurant, the kind that required jackets and ties; he had that kind of careless confidence that spoke of never really thinking of other people's limitations- or perhaps, not thinking of them. But the place he took him smelled like heaven. The tables were covered in thick paper, rather than cloth or plastic, and it seemed like they knew Ezio. Everything smelled delicious, and half the menu was vegetarian. Leo wasn't a strict vegetarian, though he did occasionally do the vegan diet, and sometimes it was hard to eat well while following that. However, fully half the menu was vegetarian here, and it was as good as it smelled, if smothered in cheese. Just as well he wasn't vegan. The people who ran it seemed to know Ezio and made sure they had everything they could want. Ezio apologeticly answered a text halfway through dinner shaking his head. The fond smile on his face made Leo ask.   
“Girlfreind?”  
“No, just Fred.” He poked at his phone, then showed a picture to Leo, leaning across the table. “Oh- Here he is with Claudia and Peter.” he pointed them out, though the dark haired girl was much more likely to be Claudia than the round cheeked boy with her. He looked like a proud papa with a wallet of photos. Leo looked at the photos, then up at Ezio, then back at the photos- they were clearly related; their faces all had that similarity but...  
“They... look a little old to be your children.” Leo said tactfully, and Ezio burst out laughing.   
“No, no, they're my siblings; look, here are my parents.” He scrolled to another photo, and there was a portrait of an older couple, plainly very much in love.   
“You carry pictures of your siblings on your phone?”  
“Why not? My siblings are incredible.” He told Leo of his older brother's people skills- how he could charm the birds from trees, and recalcitrant investors to new and interesting stocks; he was selling a new kind of roofing tile, that was also a solar collector. He was also talking vaugely about throwing his hat into the political arena to oppose a jackass councilman who had pissed him off. Ezio's sister was equaly brilliant, Leo learned, and she was the one who picked the stocks that would soar, though her passion was restoring old houses; and had organized homeless families to build and restore houses, teaching them valuable skills and giving them a place to live. Which she paid for using her investments. His youngest brother- Peter- was still in college- though one in California, looking to study in London, Paris and possibly even further abroad. Ezio clearly regarded himself as the least of his family, but was as proud of their achievements as his own, possibly even more. A bit of coaxing got Ezio to admit he shamelessly used his family's money to travel all over the world when he wasn't teaching- he'd even taught a stint abroad, though, he sheepishly admitted he didn't like being away from his family that long. 

They never got around to talking about historical politics, but it was only because they ran out of time, talking about everything else, Leo leaning over close enough to smell Ezio's calonge as he scribbled on the paper table cloth, making diagrams, and talking. Ezio didn't understand, not really Leo could tell by the slight furrowing of his brow. But he was trying, and he was genuinely interested in what Leo was saying. Leo had artist friends who weren't interested in the least in his mechanical fiddling- he had engineer friends who thought art was boring, and he had history friends who only thought of either of those subjects as dead, and none of them would listen to Leo when he got going without zoning out. But Ezio was- and if he didn't understand it, he was still interested. 

That wasn't the last time Ezio Florence took him out to dinner. Once he even dragged him home to his apartment- which was more of a condo, but he stubbornly called an apartment like he didn't understand the difference. Ezio had cooked, but the wine was more than enough to make up for his slapdash culinary skills. Leo drank too much, used to cheaper wines, and told Ezio that he was beautiful- at length. He woke up in the spare bedroom, and Ezio never made a big deal out of it, so neither did he. It wasn't that he really wanted to fuck his friend, it was just that he was a beautiful person, and he wouldn't mind cuddling him a bit. Besides, Ezio was one of the most nonagressively heterosexual men he'd ever met.   
And the best friend he'd ever had. 

As close as they got, it was almost embarrassing to show Ezio the rundown loft he lived in. It leaked cold air at every window, and the floors swayed and creaked a symphony but the light was beautiful, and it wasn't too far from the subway. He could afford it; barely and there was enough room for the bits and pieces he collected to build things with, and the assorted detritus of his attempts at art of all types. He was between roomates, and his things had spilled out into the area that he tried to keep clear for them, a half disassembled small engine for a moped spread over the kitchen island, mingled with several mugs of tea, cocoa and coffee which had been made and abandoned at different times. Some of the mugs were from Goodwill, some were left over from when he'd worked at a pottery studio the summer before.

They'd been at a fleamarket and Ezio had found a vintage record player that he desperately wanted but didn't work. He was so desolate about it, that Leo had offered to fix it. He was fairly sure it was a basic mechanical failure, and the case could be salvaged with some buffing. That wasn't what he told the seller, who apparently had no idea, just that it was cool looking, and when Ezio had come by, his eyes had lit up with dollar signs. Leo was still convinced that Ezio had overpaid for it, and continued to give him shit as he unlocked the door, giving it that extra shove to get the lock to disengage properly.   
“I'd tell you not to make a mess, but it would be redundant.”  
“Don't worry, I won't touch anything... but can I have a look around?” He was already craning his neck to look as the lights warmed up.   
“Sure.” Leo said without thinking, clearing a space on a card table to set the record player down, and fishing out the smaller screw drivers he'd need for this job. “do you want something to drink? I think I have a half bottle of wine around somewhere, or I could put the kettle on?”  
“I can do that- I think.” Ezio offered, scanning he open plan kitchen. “Oh there it is.” There was a rattle as he shifted dishes to fill it, and the choking noise from the pipes.   
“You'll need a match, it's a gas stove-”  
“Okay, got it!” came the cheerfull reply. The back of the machine came off and Leo sank into it, picking out dust and detritus, and taking a closer look at the mechanisms. He'd almost forgot that Ezio was there until he heard a soft exclamation. Looking up, he discovered that Ezio had found his paintings, and had shifted some of the smaller ones aside to look at a large canvas.   
“Oh my.”   
“Oh God.” Leo looked embarrassed, and looked for something to cover the stack of canvases with.   
“It's beautiful.” Ezio said quietly. “... uh... do you sell your work?”  
“Sell?” Leo thought about street fairs and disappointment, and the caricatures and charcoal portraits on street corners. “Sometimes.”  
“Can I buy this?” He pointed at the canvas, not looking away. It was more of an expressive piece than anything, of a horse chasing a golden eagle.  
“You don't want this.” Leo told him seriously. “I swear if it was any more cheesy crap, it would be airbrushed on the side of a panel van. You can see where I couldn’t decide what pose I wanted them in, and-”  
“It gives it movement. I'm totally serious, I want to give it to my mother, she'll love it.”  
Leo thought about his bank account- which was empty- and his paint box, which was running low of several colors- he'd done a limited color study the other day just because those were the colors he'd gotten in a set and never used. He thought about his student debts and a new tube of mars red. He thought about his needing a roommate in his loft to afford any heat this winter and how his last 'roommate' had stolen stuff to pawn.   
“I thought you liked your mother.” is what he said.   
“Leo” Ezio sighed, exasperated. “If you didn't want to sell it, if it's not finished or something, you could just say so.”  
He thought about his friend’s expensive breifcase, and his car that sounded like it never missed an oil change, and the condo with two bedrooms- one of which was kept just for guests.  
“A thousand.” he said, plucking a number from the air. Rent for a month. Ezio looked at the painting again, and just as Leo was about to say 'joking' he answered.   
“Check okay?” Ezio went into his inner coat pocket, and had his wallet out while Leo was still gaping.  
“Yeah...” oh god, Ezio had one of those expensive Cross pens, and it was casually tucked into his check book like a ball point. He hated being reminded how much money Ezio had. He shouldn't. He should be broke, he was a teacher for fuck's sake. A teacher with an investment banker for a father and a not unsubstatial portfolio of his own... but a teacher. He signed his name with a florish, noted the amount in the register, and ripped the check off, handing it to Leo. Starting to fold it up and stuff it in his pocket, he happened to glance at it.   
“This is twice what I asked for.”  
“Yep.” Ezio grinned and waggled his finger in an admonishing fashion.“And if you don't cash it, it'll mess up my checkbook, so be sure to- if you don't, I'll come back with the money in cash. Now... uh... can you help me get this to my car?” 

It was over a week later Leo realized that he'd never gotten around to fixing the record player. 

 

When Ezio found out that Leo had no plans, he practically dragged him along to Thanksgiving with his family. Leo was aghast to discover that Ezio had in fact given his mother the painting and it was hung in her office, proudly- not even behind her desk, but across from it, where she could look at it. She praised it extravagantly as well, and with the vocabulary of someone who had studied. Despite how often Ezio had spoke n of his family, it somehow shocked Leo to find himself in the middle of the family- and given how close then were, even more shocked to find himself enveloped in it without so much as a ripple, treated as though he was part of the family. She told him that Ezio spoke of him often, and that it was wonderful to finally meet him. She even had a few suggestions about where he could try to sell his work, instead of just trying at street fairs. Fred suggested that he use Ezio as a model.   
“I don't get it, but girls love him.” he laughed. “I mean, it can't be for his brains or personality, right?”  
“I don’t think it'd get attention these days unless he was kissing another guy.” Claudia joined in the teasing.   
“Oh not this again.” Ezio groaned.   
“I'm just saying,-“  
“Could you not?” he looked over at Leo. “Allow me to sum this up; Claudia here is convinced that I'm a closeted homosexual because I can't form a lasting relationship.” Leo nearly spat his drink out, and fought so hard not to he ended up choking. Ezio patted his back anxiously.   
“Well” he gasped. “I am the steadiest relationship you've had since we met.”   
“Aie.” cried Ezio in mock distress. “You've turned on me, my friend. That's it, you're sleeping on the couch tonight!”  
“Oh but honey bunch, I thought you _wanted_ me to meet your parents.”  
Claudia was dying across the table.  
“There's nothing unmanly about a relationship with another man.” Leo opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried to look hurt, but this was ruined by the fact his lips kept twitching into a smile.   
“I just want everyone to know that in this fictional relationship, I am on top.”  
“Because that's so much less gay.” Peter drawled.   
“Don't worry Ezio.” his mother said seriously. Her next sentence was half obscured by laughter, however. “Your siblings will carry on the line.”   
“I'm disowning you all.” He laughed and hid his face in his arms. “You're heartless and horrible and Leo is _actually gay_.”   
“... That doesn't make you being closeted okay.” Claudia tsked. She did mouth a sorry at Leo however who gave a dismissive wave of his hand, and rubbed Ezio's back soothingly. 

“She's right you know.” Leo commented later. Despite Ezio's threat, they were in his childhood room where there were twin beds. It felt like a sleepover.   
“Hrm?” Ezio rolled over and propped his head on one hand.   
“You are a beautiful man. You would be nice to paint.”  
“My body is yours then. What good you can get out of it between classes, at least.” Leo pressed a pillow over his face.  
“God, don't say things like that.”   
“Let me be your muuuuuse.”   
“What are you, twelve?!”  
Ezio fell silent for awhile, and Leo thought that he'd fallen asleep.   
“You are the best relationship I've ever had.” He said very softly. Leo decided the tactful thing to do was to pretend he was asleep. 

However, the beginning of December found them in Leo's drafty loft. He'd cleaned it up since Ezio had been there last, and hung a few sheets which blocked most of the drafts and bounced the light around, making everything ethereal seeming. It was somehow very private feeling, like they'd been wrapped in tissue paper away from the rest of the world.   
“You know what I think you need?” Ezio said rubbing his beard.   
“A quieter model? Don't move your hand, the light is tricky there.”   
Obediently, Ezio put his hand back into the pose. He was very good at doing that, at least.   
“No what you need is a patron.”  
“What?”  
“A patron, someone to invest in your future as an artist.”  
“I'm not an artist, Ezio, I'm just a tinkerer.”   
“Well, maybe but you're a really talented artist too.” He looked at Leo with firm intensity. “And I think that you could get one with the proper exposure. You get the right exposure, and you could even pay off those loans.”   
“If I paid off the loans, I wouldn't have to work at the college any more.” Leo teased, adding a highlight with a careful stroke. “Then when would I see you?”  
“Anytime you wanted; you could go to college instead. Get a degree in something. I'd hire you as my assistant.” Ezio seemed perturbed at the idea of not seeing his friend again. Leo suspected that he was just naturally clingy, as he was inclined to try to help everyone he met. Ezio often met up with him out of breath, having been patiently explaining something to a student who could have very easily looked it up themselves. “Or you could move in! The second bedroom could be yours, and we could convert the garage to a studio...”  
“I didn't think you liked me that way.”   
“You could watch the place while I'm traveling.” Ezio hadn't seem to have heard the innuendo, which was surprising given he lived and breathed them. “But then you couldn't come with me.” He thought about this for a while, which Leo was glad for since it kept him still. At last he started cleaning his brushes.   
“That's it, the light's gone for today.”   
Ezio moved quickly, but not quickly enough for Leo not to spot it and yank a drop cloth over the painting.   
“Get dressed Ezio. You agreed not to look until I was done.”   
“I thought you'd changed your mind.” he pouted, but did. “Do you want to come over tonight? I'm doing rough edits on papers for a few students, and I need to get the finals in order.”   
“I'm not grading your papers for you Ezio...”   
“I am shocked, shocked at that accusation. But there's a front coming through, and it is warmer at my place... we'll get takeout from that place you like with the spicy tofu...”   
“Why Professor Florence, are you trying to seduce me?” He rinsed out his last brush. “Because I didn't say no, but I'm holding you to that offer.”   
It was... easy to take charity from Ezio, somehow. Ezio offered it to him whole heartily, like he felt he owed Leo a debt he'd never repay. Though despite the teasing, there was no way he'd be able to grade classwork. for one thing it was the dullest job imaginable- for another, Leo hadn't even been able to write a paper well enough for college, he stood no chance of accurately grading them.

The thai place Leo liked best was just of campus; he had to admit that working as a handyman there had many benefits. Unfortunately, it was close enough to the dorms that Ezio got cornered by a student long enough that Leo gave up on eating without reheating the food. The front that was coming through had brought mostly cold, but there was a hint of snow to it; they'd been lucky so far but the winter was looking bleak.   
When they came out heading to the parking lot where Ezio had left his jeep, there was a small crowd of young men, standing around aimlesssly despite the cold. Ezio ignored them, but Leo felt nervous somehow.  
“You professor Florence?” yelled one of the boys.  
“Ah, yes. I don't think you're in any of my classes. How can I help you?”   
“Aren't you more used to helping yourself?”  
“I don't think I get your meaning.”   
“You helped yourself, nice enough to my sister.” One of the boys pushed through his friends, advancing, and looking plenty annoyed. He might have been drunk- no, he probably was, judging from the redness in his eyes and the brown paper covered bottle in his hand.   
“I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name-” Ezio started to say but had to lean out of the way as the bottle was flung at him- from the sound it made hitting the wall, it was mostly empty and plastic. For a moment, his expression hardened, but then it became open and friendly again. “Gentlemen I have no quarrel with you.” Ezio said cheerfully, offering open palms.  
“Well maybe you shouldn't have fucked my sister.”  
“I assure you that if I made love to your sister, it was consensual, and she enjoyed it.” Ezio retorted. “At any rate, I doubt that's really any of your business.”   
“Ezio.” hiss Leo softly. “Don't antagonize them.”  
“They're all bluster, Leo.” he assured his friend. “Nothing to-” the one whose sister he'd slept with grabbed him by the front of his jacket and hauled him into his fist. Ezio reeled and broke free, stumbling back a few feet, lip split and bleeding, already swelling. A foot lashed out and he stumbled to the pavement. Out of the corner of his eye, Leo caught the upward swing of a baseball bat. Heading downward towards Ezio's head. Reaching out he caught it, the jolt traveling all the way up his arm. The man holding it stared.  
“Leave.” Leo barked.  
“Who do you think you are?” he started to bluster, until Leo put his other hand further down the bat, and twisted. The wood snapped and the two halves dropped to the pavement.   
“Leave.” he repeated. This time the order was followed, as Ezio got to his feet.   
“I was fine-” he started to protest, but fell silent at how white Leo was.  
“Ezio.” Squeaked Leo. “I think I broke my hand with that stunt.”   
“What?” Ezio's face was a mask of concern even though the blood that covered his face. “We need to get you to a hospital.”  
“I can't go to a hospital! I don't have the money!” Leo protested.   
“If you think you broke your hand this is no time to quibble.” Ezio was less than steady but he grabbed Leo's arm and towed him away. 

The emergency room was much more concerned with Ezio's bleeding face which he brushed off entirely, filling out Leo's information on the forms, with remarkably few questions. He brushed off Leo's objections as well. The bone was only cracked, though his joints were inflamed and his palm bruised, and they put a half cast on it and told him to take it easy with that arm. Ezio was cleared for not having a concussion, his mouth was bandaged, and they were sent home. He complained idly that they'd shaved away his beard, to tend the cut on his mouth, but Leo thought it made him look younger- not a bad thing at all.

By the time the pain meds wore off Leo was worried sick about paying the hospital bill- it hadn't included an ambulance, but his savings- though existent now, were still thin enough that they could be wiped out by this sudden expense- especially since he would have to go back for it to be checked on.  
“Don't worry about it.” Ezio insisted.   
“I have to- I don't have options...”  
“You don't have to. Because I put you down as my domestic partner, and you're covered under my insurance.”  
Silence hung between them for a long moment.  
“You did what?”  
”I knew you didn't have insurance, and it seemed like the right thing to do...”  
“You lied-you're going to get in so much trouble- I'm committing insurance fraud and I didn't even realize it.”   
“Calm down,” Ezio winced as the cut on his mouth pulled.   
“I don't want to go to jail-” Leo's arm throbbed, and Ezio pressed one of the pain pills on him.   
“you won't go to jail if it's true; the paper work is easy, and no one will look too close at the dates.”  
“but that's marriage. You're asking me to marry you.”  
“Not technically. It's just... partnership. For life. Staying with me and letting me help you. Helping me.”  
“Don't do this to me Ezio.” Leo shook his head.   
“Leo.” He put his arms around the other man's shoulders and put their heads together, foreheads touching. “I love you. I love you more than any woman I've known. As much as my family- maybe more.” A deep admission for Ezio. “I can't bear the thought of losing you. But I don't want to make love to you.”  
“God.” Leo breathed and held him back. “It would be so much eaiser...”  
“I know.” Ezio signed deeply. “I'm sorry.”   
“Don't be. I love you too, you vain idiot.” he gave a laugh. “But I don't really want to have sex with you, either.”   
“Then let's not.” He smiled, and winced again. “But stay anyway?”   
“Fine. But I'm keeping my name.”   
“Well, if I loose my girlish figure from carrying your children, you'll just find someone young and cute, you cad.”   
“Ha- you're more likely, while I'm slaving away, working my fingers to the bone.”   
They laughed even though they were sore; and there were worse places to sleep then with someone who loved you. 

Leo refused to move in with him until the painting was done- the light would be different in the studio they'd set up there, and his arm healed fast enough. He added in the scar across Ezio's lips from the fight, but hadn't told him. When he finally let Ezio look he didn't even comment.   
“You're very kind. It's cold in here, but I look warm and relaxed.” He looked like an angel or a saint, surrounded by folds of white and red cloth, bathed in golden light, which came not only from above him, but from an orb held between his hands, which glowed like a miniature sun.   
“What is it?” Ezio asked, twitching his fingers away from the damp canvas. He'd put on a pair of pants but had been to eager to finally see the painting to bother dressing more.   
“I don't know.” Leo sighed shaking his head and scratching his chin with the handle of his brush. “It feels important though you know? Like when I see it, I'm seeing a thousand other things.”  
“What I'm seeing is that map from Treasure planet.”  
“You're uncultured swine.” Leo smacked his friend. “The only similarity is that it's a gold sphere. I think it looks more like an orb of state.”  
“So if it's so important, why put it in my hands?”   
“It's art.” he didn't have an answer. “Anyway it's not really you, is it? You were the model, but this is something else. You're good looking, but not this good looking, my friend.”  
“And here I thought you were seeing me with the eyes of love.” Ezio fluttered his lashes at Leo and put an arm around his shoulders. Leo just snorted. “You're right though.” he said after a long moment. “It does seem important. Somehow. Wonderful and terrifying, and I don't know why.” He paused. “But given you elected not to put pants on me, I'm not hanging it in my office.”  
“you don't even have an office.”  
“Maybe I will someday.” he flashed a smile sideways at Leo. “Mom's living room all the way.”  
“EZIO!” He brandished his pallet knife. “I'll tear it up first.”  
“And ruin that pretty face?”


End file.
